IY Cracked Fairytales
by Illusionary Ghost
Summary: A three part fic that encompasses 3 different small plays that the Inuyasha cast must perform.
1. Prologue

(Disclaimer: Just like any other disclaimer so I don't need to say anything more.

Additional author's note: It's amazing sometimes, when you go through your junk drawer and find, of all things, a fic. Figuring, there's never a shortage for Inuyasha comedy fics, I've decided to edit the bits I have and unleash it onto the unsuspecting public. Hopefully, by that time, I've managed to remove any blatant OOCness. There are only 3 parts to this "fairy tale" (The prologue doesn't count). Thanks to Aile Anna for proofing and reading my fics.)

I'd also like to Dedicate this fanfiction to Aile Anna for all her work and effort that she puts into editing my fics and the wonderful support she provides to me. Thanks so very much. I really do appreciate it, more than you can know.

By Yashira

(Edited May 4, 2003 and August 13, 2003 (This just means, I wrote it at an earlier date, but I never dated the original work at the time. _ )

Musashi Theatre Presents: IY CRACKED FAIRY TALES

_CUE LIGHTS! ROLL CAMERAS! ACTION! A Monkey wearing a tong walks in and strikes a gong._

"Yashira, isn't that a bit much, for these cheap ass productions?" A familiar and sinister male voice asked with a hint of aloof detachment, "And why a monkey? Both Kouga and Inuyasha make better figures to laugh at."

"If you don't watch your mouth, you might find yourself cast in a female role or worse." Yashira, director, narrator and sometimes wise-ass, was dressed in a director's heavy black frock that was supposedly rumored to be useful and to help create inspiration. The only thing it did create, was more sweat.

O.o

A loud distant crash, like the sound of two cars testing their velocity by ramming head on into a brick wall, erupted back stage to be followed by deep guttural cursing. "Why you little bastard!"

"I'm telling Kagome on youuuu!!!" Shippo's shrilled voice seemed coloured with amusement as he ran quickly ahead of Inuyasha. Somehow, he barely managed to avoid the light bulbs being tossed at him by the irate hanyou.

"Not if I catch you first!" 

"You're the clumsy one knocking over the box of lights… and no one said you had to throw them at little me, either!" One particular explosive slap of glass skimmed the kitsune's ear, sending shards of rippling glass fragments along the ground, forcing Shippo to make a sudden turn in his projectory. "Aii!"

"I got you now, you son of-!"

When you're the director, and you're wearing what could possibly be the equivalent of a bearskin coat in 101-degree heat, any little thing, however small, is not something you want to bring to her attention. Yashira turned to the side and uttered one simple word, "KAGOME~~~"

"Osuwari." Simple and easy was the word as it left Kagome's lips and it took less than 2 seconds to have Inuyasha flat down on the ground. 

"WHAT the fuck!" Inuyasha glared from his hole in the floorboards, golden eyes frowning at both girls, as Shippo raced over and climbed safely into Kagome's arms. "He started it!"

With an innocent smile on her lips, perhaps tasting a bit with embarrassment, Kagome said simply, "She wants to start the play."

"(Words which I can not repeat, but which were really nasty sounding anyway, have been censored for the public's health.)" Still glaring something ugly, Inuyasha managed to spit out what sounded like a "fine" but was more likely of the other four-letter variety.

O_o

Magically, Yashira waved her wand and the scene changed. Later she would wonder why she was given a wand, but that sort of thought belongs to long and ancient thinking. Besides, the author can't remember what she was originally thinking at the time she wrote this, so she figured any pansy-assed Disney-ripped off wand waving would be good enough in its place.


	2. Play one

(Disclaimer: Just like any other disclaimer so I don't need to say anything more.

Additional author's note: It's amazing sometimes, when you go through your junk drawer and find, of all things, a fic. Figuring, there's never a shortage for Inuyasha comedy fics, I've decided to edit the bits I have and unleash it onto the unsuspecting public. Hopefully, by that time, I've managed to remove any blatant OOCness. There are only 3 parts to this "fairy tale". )

I'd also like to Dedicate this fanfiction to Aile Anna for all her work and effort that she puts into editing my fics and the wonderful support she provides to me. Thanks so very much. I really do appreciate it, more than you can know.

By Yashira

(Edited May 4, 2003 and August 13, 2003 (This just means, I wrote it at an earlier date, but I never dated the original work at the time. _ )

Musashi Theatre Presents: IY CRACKED FAIRY TALES

__

The first Play begins:

Scene: *Cuts to a delicious looking cookie house covered in fine chocolate wafer walls, Gummybear shrubberies, Smarties shingles, whip cream frosted windows and over all that the sugary sweetness that most people would otherwise name the GINGER BREAD house.*

Two cloaked figures trekked towards this huge colossal joy for 3 years olds everywhere with what appears to be non-disguised aversion. Obviously, they weren't happy with the choice of casting, and they wanted everyone else to know that too. The first turned to the second and said in a voice only soured-grapes would call their own, "Tell me again, why they had to stick you with me?"

"I'd like to know that too." Pulling back his hood to glare at the first speaker, Naraku's face was decked out in bright doll-like make up. Ruby red lips, purple eye shadow, and "pretty in pink" blush had been applied in great dollops as if the make-up artist had been on a steady drinking binge. "I have more to complain than you do!"

Sesshoumaru drew back his own hood to reveal flowing white hair that had been groomed and tied with a loose string. His face was virtually untouched by the same harsh make-up used for Naraku although someone had gone to the trouble of using toner to hide his markings. What Sesshoumaru wanted to do right now was to do a little bit of unnoticeable adlibbing that would consist of piercing the heart of Naraku with his claws, before throwing it down on the floor and dancing on it. Would that be a bit too much?

Even now, he was finding the urge hard to deny, but with his _imoto_ waving the use of the 'wand', Sesshoumaru managed not to give in to temptation just yet. Having a younger sister with the same blood as his brother, who also seemed to be suffering what could be termed as PMS brought on by the director's frock, was not someone he cared to annoy at the moment. Later was another story. "If you lay another of your tentacles on my body…."

"Shut up and start acting!" Yashira called from somewhere off stage, sounding miserably upset at both her director frock and the delay in the acting scene with Naraku and Sesshoumaru. Those unfortunate enough to not have an acting scene were stuck waiting with her behind stage. Miroku, already learning the merits of not siding up to the director and laying a heavy hand to her butt when she was in this condition, was crouched in a corner as if trying to recover from some kick to a part of the body we can assume need not be named at this moment.

Naraku, who refused to take off the rest of his cloak, was only shrugging. Either he wasn't paying attention to Yashira because he was being in character, or he just didn't care. In either case, he just grinned at Sesshoumaru with that sort of 'I'm evil, how about you,' look, before finally saying, "Later, you'll be dying to have me absorb you."

"Oh? I don't think _I'd_ be the one dying…" Sesshoumaru replied simply, his golden eyes narrowing on Naraku to the effect that he was once more considering running his nails through his chest. "In fact, we could prove that right now. It would be so much better than having to act in these horrible roles…"

"If I have to come out there," Yashira called again, this time her voice sounding like something akin to a match being lit near a hydrogen bomb, "I'm going to hurt someone… AND take off those bloody damn cloaks!"

"Believe her, she's not lying!" Although no one would have thought it possible that his voice could rise so high on the octave field, the squeaky voice, which called out from his corner of doom, was none other than Miroku's.

Normally such a delay should have been expected since working with two high profile 'villains' came with its own load of problems, but to have such an absolute turnabout was both shocking and startling. It might have had something to do with Miroku's newly acquired female voice, but both Sesshoumaru and Naraku, in less time than it took to say, "bite me," had turned around with sudden smiles on their face. (I can point out the smiles are fake, btw.) "We love our parts!"

"I love mine more!" Naraku cried with an energetic stomping of his feet. Even if they were both feminine looking in appearance, it was what lay behind the covers that matter, and they didn't want that taken away with one well-aimed kick. "And we're not _afraid _of showing off our clothing! See, I'm taking it off!" This was said by the very hanyou who had previously said, _'I have more to complain than you do.'_

"You better like them, I spent a good deal of 10 minutes on each of them." The spatter of hysterical giggles that broke out from the crowd behind Yashira seemed fixed on the outfit Naraku wore.

Miroku, who thinking he had a better chance of living by antagonizing Sango, pulled at a loose strand of her outfit. "It shows alright. ER, I didn't mean to pull it all off. No, don't kick me there!" He had already been "gifted" with a squeaky voice once, but now he lost it completely as he doubled over and let out a suffering moan of agony.

"What the heck are they wearing?" Inuyasha had already fallen to his knees and was doubling over in such riotous laugher that tears were pouring forth from his eyes. 

Sesshoumaru, dressed in German-like laden hose and brown shorts with suspenders, looked quite annoyed at having to show everyone his costume. It was a bit form fitting and not like his usual wardrobe so it was only natural that he was uncomfortable. "I should be thankful I wasn't cast in a female role this time."

Unable to stop himself, Inuyasha teasingly called out from behind stage, "THIS TIME? What other female parts have you done?!" There seemed to be some exquisite bit of joy in Inuyasha's voice; it was as if he got some much-needed turnabout in seeing his brother's composure get rattled.

"Why don't you come over here and I'll explain a few things, hmm?" He was flexing his claws and seemed on the verge of heading directly back stage when Naraku threw his cloak to the side.

I think it might be better to take a moment and go over exactly what Naraku is wearing simply because saying he's in a blue dress wouldn't do it justice. Pink little frills were curtained along the edges of the silk gown to match the dainty panty hose and sky-blue slippers on his feet. It might be worth to notice that the wig of blond curls that was firmly grasped in his hand was finally put on his head. For a guy who loved his costume his dark smoldering looks and the words, "Why on God's blue earth, do I have to wear this?!" did little to prove it true.

The silence in the room lasted for about 2 seconds before laughter exploded and rocked the set like the first of July (The fourth, if you're American). Even Yashira who wasn't feeling so great had lifted a hand to cover her chuckling lips, while Inuyasha had tumbled down onto his back and was hitting the floor with hysterical slaps.

"Okay, okay, can we get back to your parts? You're making this much longer than it's suppose to be." Running her fingers over her damp black hair, as she sweated profusely beneath the black frock, Yashira was waving them to go on. 

"Well, whose fault is that- you're the one writing this!" Naraku, the ever pretty –vying for the new Sailormoon poster girl position - dared to "break the fourth wall," and was immediately punished by the current description just used. "Sailormoon? Anything but that!"

__

Scene change! 

The huge interior of the Gingerbread house smelled vaguely like cookies and creams (which, if you think of it, is only natural as it is a Cookie house.) The live-in witch, tired of the Gingerbread smell, had taken it upon herself to remodel the house with Cookies n' Cream™ paint. There arose a tinkering of faint protests in the background as the witch, more visible a miko with tied back black hair, threw the last of her "paint" into her cauldron.

"Do I really have to do this? And why did I get cast into the role of the witch? I mean, people nowadays are going to accuse you of Kikyou-bashing and you wouldn't want them to-" Yashira's deadpan expression, coupled by the way she smacked the wand in her bare hand to make loud slapping noises, was not something an already dead miko wanted to be seeing. (Especially not since seeing Naraku's outfit and knowing what could be done to someone who "complained" too much.") "Um… well…"

"Do you have any other complaints? Or would you like the evil "classic" witch look, included with warts, too?" The director looked thoughtfully at Kikyou as the pause between them was so quiet that you could hear the remote fall of a pin hitting the empty silence of Naraku's brain. (ooc Naraku: Hey!) 

"No! No, I'm good. Yeah, that's right. I'm good for a dead miko playing a witch. So what am I suppose to do now? Er… wait a second." Kikyou's eyes narrowed suddenly as the sound of what could only be several people munching on the Gingerbread house's far set wall drifted over to her ears. "Yashira, I think we might have a problem."

"Look, Kikyou, I thought I said-"

"No, listen carefully." Gesturing towards the far wall of the set, and in company to the ravenous chewing noises, were voices. 

"Is this edible, Kagome?"

"I don't know Shippo, does it taste edible?"

"That's the problem isn't it? I can't try without putting a foreign thing into my mouth." 

Glancing over at the director, Kikyou mouthed the words, "Should I be hearing this?" 

"Oi! Try this, the thatch is made of licorice."

"HAHA, Kagome, look at Inu-kuro he got frosting all over his head."

"Hey, lay off the curls, I'm NOT edible!" Clearly the last voice was that of Naraku, because there was much kukuku and threatening of, "If you touch my wig again, I'll make sure you choke on it."

Rapping on the wall with her wand and creating general, disordered panic when those behind it realized they'd been found out, Yashira laid out this ultimatum: "If you aren't back in your places on the count of five, I'm going to start issuing Battle Royale collars."

"Look, why don't you just let me roast them." This was suggested with the sort of calmness in Kikyou's voice that hinted at clearly another reason. "It's in the script that I have to roast Hansel and Gretal, I might as well do it to somebody." Although that somebody was most likely the rival of Kikyou's love interest: Kagome.

With a hand on her director's smock, Yashira drew it back and forth in the hopes of fanning herself and lessening the heat that was making her sweat buckets upon buckets of perspiration. "At this rate, you might as well." She sounded as if she was much put upon, and by her deadpan look at Jaken, who had somehow managed to get into Seasshoumaru's costume, one could see why.

"AHOY!" Croaked Jaken, as he dropped his hands on both of his hips and stared definitely at Kikyou. "Witch, it was I who was eating your house with my sister Gretal. What do you want to do about it?!" 

"Wait a damn minute, where is Sesshoumaru?"

Jaken, who had a lot of practice looking like one of those sad droopy dogs, stared at Yashira with a look of absolute innocence. "Whatever do you mean? I am Sesshoumaru."

It was several moments later, as Jaken laid in a tangle mess of bruises and broken bones, that Yashira massaged her sore knuckles back to health. "You're too short, too fat, too green and ugly to be Sesshoumaru. How you could even possibly conceive to think that you could ever pass yourself off as him is beyond me."

"But Sesshoumaru said if I didn't dress up and take his place-" What he would have said remains lost for Sesshoumaru with the elegant and splendid grace of his booted feet proceeded to kick the poor green youkai into orbit.

"I said no such thing," he began in a regal, holier than thou tone. "I, Sesshoumaru, do not run from plays. Clearly there's no way Jaken could pass himself off as me and the gods would weep if that were so." 

"Ooh, he's smooth. I'll give him that," said Sango, with wide eye approval, as she tried to rub off the last of the frosting she had accidentally got in her hair. "He's trying to save face with his sister while also saving his rep. HEY!" There was the sound of an ill-tempered slap, followed by, "Miroku, stop licking me"

"Look, I don't care who it is, but I'm going to cook somebody and do my scene like it's suppose to be done!!" Not liking that she was having her scene, though limited, trod upon, Kikyou reached for the nearest two people within all this sudden –uncalled for- turmoil. Unfortunately for Seshoumaru and Sango - who just happened to be in the wrong spot at the wrong time- they were thrown into her cauldron. Needless to say, both of them went up in a puff of smoke.


	3. Play two

(Disclaimer: Just like any other disclaimer so I don't need to say anything more.

Additional author's note: It's amazing sometimes, when you go through your junk drawer and find, of all things, a fic. Figuring, there's never a shortage for Inuyasha comedy fics, I've decided to edit the bits I have and unleash it onto the unsuspecting public. Hopefully, by that time, I've managed to remove any blatant OOCness. There are only 3 parts to this "fairy tale". Thanks for Aile Anna for Beta reading.)

By Yashira

(Edited May 4, 2003 and August 13, 2003/September 15, 2003)

Musashi Theatre Presents: IY CRACKED FAIRY TALES

__

Play 2 starts:

__

Scene: After the mess of the Gingerbread house and the scorch marks on the ceiling from Kikyou's cauldron scene, the set has been cleaned up with a bit of Pledge™ and Windex™. Yes folks, the director is hoping that'll deter the rest of the cast from eating the set with the promise of stomach poisoning if they do. The blue curtains are drawn to a close and the spotlight alights the center of the stage with an anticipated glow. 

"Okay, it's my turn!" Miroku, seemingly recovered from the havoc that had incapacitated him (not once, but several times) earlier, walked onto the stage with that usual pleasant smile of his. It's the sort of smile that suggested he was about to purge your house from non-existent demons, and to then ask that you provide a night of shelter at no extra cost to himself. In short, it was the "Give me something, for nothing" smile.

To accessorize his performance, Miroku wore royal blue leggings that showed off his manly legs and a purple frock that was belted with a gold sash. All in all, he managed to look like some stereotypical western version of a rogue prince he had once seen in one of Kagome's dress up books. (She'd brought the books to the set and I'm guessing that's probably where he saw the pictures. Although WHY he was looking at the book in the first place is beyond me, unless he thought there was some "HOT hentai action" going on. There wasn't.) It was not quite the effect the director had going with Miroku looking either Prince-like or Sinbad-like, but with what had happened earlier at the Gingerbread house she couldn't complain about it now. Thankfully, Miroku's Kaza Ana was still sealed up by his rosary and hand glove. 

"I can't believe you still want to act after what happened the last time." Yashira had finally given up on the black director's smock and was dressed in a simple ocean blue wrap with matching sarong. The ever present 'wand' was strapped to her waist and had not disappeared as many of the others had once hoped would happen when the Gingerbread chaos erupted. "Are you sure you're up for it?" At least her mood had considerably brightened, although what that would pose in the long run was anyone's guess.

There was a serious pause as Miroku looked directly at the camera, "I'm always up for it."

With a slap to her forehead, Yashira looked apologetic to those closest to her, "My fault… I left that one open."

"Well, of course I'm also ready to perform. This is my big moment, right? But I need a replacement for Sango. After what happened in the last play, she's still in intensive care and I don't have a female starring opposite of me right now. Maybe I can ask someone in the crowd?" Turning to blow kisses towards the audience, typical of the roving Casanova's nature, Miroku proceeded to ask his famous question, "Anyone want to bear my -"

"Hmm, well I have the perfect person," Yashira replied with a thoughtful finger pressed against her full lips as she glanced offstage, "and they complained earlier about not having enough air time."

"What? Really?" Not noticing that his plea for a child had been interrupted, Miroku fixed the director with eager, violet eyes. As long as it was a woman, who really cared about details? (Doesn't that sound like, "famous last words?") "Where is she?"

"Just start the play, I'll fetch 'em!" 

"Okay. That I can do." Miroku would have started to wonder why Yashira was playing the pronoun game, but was distracted when he found himself surrounded by soft-spoken applause. His lips quirked into a proud, rascally smile as he eagerly lifted both arms to those watching, "Well, that is my cue then! LADIES, who will bear my child!?"

Unbeknownst to our poor hero, Sango had –before leaving for intensive care- threatened the entire audience with one heartless look that suggested that if they thought to even answer a "yes" to Miroku's question they would immediately find themselves one step closer to hell. (or in her words, "right next to me, in Intensive Care. I still have my Hiraikotsu.") Therefore, when the startling reply of one cricket filled the row upon row of onlookers, Miroku was completely perplexed and caught off guard. Women had always flocked to him before, so why was now different? The poor sap, if only he knew. 

"What, no one? Come now, one of you pretty ladies must want a child with me?" Method acting or just natural skill, no one knew.

"Miroku-sama," came a familiar shout from behind stage, as Kagome peeked out through the ruff of the curtains, "If you don't start the show, you'll know what'll happen when Yashira returns with her wand, right? While I don't mind seeing the effect, I'm sure you'll have a different opinion."

With the grace of a Shakespearean actor, Miroku held his head proudly, his arms strategically posed on hips, as he allowed his voice to bellow across the stage. (Yes, a difference of opinion can work wonders on the power of acting.) "Alas, I Miroku have been left fatherless, what shall I? I must marry a real princess so that my land will have healthy heirs and will also not be punished with the director's wand or Sango's Hiraikotsu. I only want 10 or 20 kids, that's not so bad?" 

Silence.

~Come on, this is good stuff people. Why aren't you applauding me or offering up your virgin daughters?~

Feeling the cold sweat bead along the back of his neck, and coupled with a nervous twitch in his belly, Miroku looked unhappily at the rows of vacant faces in front of him. This unnerving quiet hadn't happened with the Gingerbread scene, so why now? People loved him and would be only too happy to greet and take him home to remove bad "omens", so what had changed? This was madness, why was he being ostracized? And where the heck was Yashira with the promised woman? Considering that the options for female replacement among the group was rather obvious, Miroku expected to see either Kikyou, Kagome, or perhaps even Yashira herself. It was in the middle of his own inner monologue when his thoughts were interrupted by a newcomer.

"I'll tell you what you should do. You need to have all the available princesses come to your castle so that you can pick and choose. And once they are at your castle, you must have them prove to you that they are indeed royal princesses." The familiar voice came from a young man dressed in bright green trousers and tunic who pushed his way through the blue curtain to get onto stage. His long black hair was tied in a high back ponytail which just happened to also revealed long slender and definitely pointy ears. Turning to address the audience again, Kouga was met by loud, blatant cheering and shrill whistling. "Well, heh, thanks. Inu-koru must be so jealous, he doesn't get applause like this."

"Forget Inuyasha, what about me?! Oh man, this is so unfair. I stand here for over 10 minutes and nothing. Even the Gingerbread scene got more applause than I did and now he walks out and they cheer." Miroku was fuming, his face livid with rage, as he gestured rudely to the upstart who had stolen his spot of glory. "Now I know how Inuyasha feels when Kouga takes over the limelight with Kagome."

"Yeah, and I'll give you the same advice you gave me!" Inuyasha was still back stage, watching the whole proceedings with a disbelieving shake of his head as if thinking one Kaze no Kizu was all he needed to solve this problem. It was not this advice he offered though, because contrary to public belief, he could feel a sit coming on if he even tried to blast Kouga in Kagome's presence. What he said instead sounded like a taunt he was only too happy to return to Miroku for once. "Don't worry, they're really not interested in him." 

Violet eyes glared aback at Inuyasha, as fingers did that sort of gesture that's much talked about, but hardly seen. "You suck, this is clearly different. Kagome isn't interested in him, but they – the audience - are! My only chance is to suck him up in the Kaza Ana-" 

"Well, I did my part and had my cameo." Kouga had blown a kiss to the audience causing half its female occupants to swoon over in apparent bliss, before heading off stage, via the route through the curtains. "Now, I'm off to find my woman! She must be waiting for me with baited breath." 

"Ah damn it. There went my moment of mindless air suck. Inuyasha's right… he always runs away." And although Miroku was still grumbling about Kouga, he was terribly pleased that the wolf demon had left the stage as quickly as he did. "Well, at least he gets his woman, where's mine?" The voices that were raised in reply, however, did not answer that question.

"Get a life, she's not your woman!"

"Oh yes she is!"

"She's with me, doesn't that tell you something?"

"Like?"

"Oh, I'm so going to wipe that grin from your face, Kaze no-"

"Kagome!!!"

"Inuyasha, OSUWARI!!!"

"I hate you both!"

"Well, I guess that means Yashira's back." Wearing a classic sweat-drop to the right of his temple, Miroku offered a small, embarrassed chuckle to the audience. With a resounding reply of that one cricket, he coughed and glanced away. "What about my-" As if on cue, the curtains instantly were drawn back to reveal a crudely painted castle backdrop surrounded with buckets acting in place of a moat. What looked to be shrubbery (it was left over from the Knights who say Nii) had been thrown about to represent a courtyard, while a huge prop Door was left standing in the center. The image brought five words to mind when viewing. It should have been condemned. 

"There has to be some mistake." Miroku began as he gestured to the ugly piece of scenery as if wanting to make a Buddhist gesture for it to go away. "Where's the **good** scenery? You know, the good stuff for the dashing prince who is still fatherless and without a WOMAN." 

There came a sudden rattling sound from behind the prop door. 

"What the heck is that?" Glancing towards the door in question, Miroku shifted uneasy eyes towards it. He suddenly had a very bad feeling. (The sort of feeling that was beyond any normal Hiraikotsu bashing feeling. Yeah, that bad.)

"Um, Miroku, the door." The cue came from off stage where a concerned director, was waiting patiently for him to open the Door.

"Yeah?" He was just now realizing that he could see Kagome pacing behind stage as Yashira turned to discuss something with Kikyou. If he did his math right that meant, of the 3 girls who could possibly be behind that onstage Door… "So I should just... open it?" 

The rapping on the door rose to an impatience octave.

"YES, go ANSWER it." Yashira sounded annoyed now. She had done all this work on finding him a replacement and he was stalling. Damn, ungrateful monk.

"…do I have to?"

"If you don't open it this minute, I'm going to stick this wand where the sun don't shine!" Jerking the wand out and giving a temperamental wave, she shrieked, "NOW, OPEN THAT DAMN DOOR!"

"Okay, okay." Sounding as if someone had let the air out of his tires, he scampered quickly towards the Door in question. "I'll answer it. I just won't like it." But no sooner had he reached for the prop Door than it swung open to reveal…

… none other than Naraku, still fancily made up in his Gretal outfit AND still sporting the same makeup too. 

"Yo."

Big eyes, open mouth, and the sensation that he was about to pass out do not do justice to what transpired across Miroku's face. In short, he looked as if he had to puke and go to the bathroom at the same time. "WHAT SICK IDEA IS THIS!?"

"Hey, I didn't get enough air time before." He stated this in his usual deadpan expression that was so utterly serious compared to his looks that it was instantly met with guffaws. As if to add extra merriment to punctuate his reply, he ran his fingers through the wig of blond curls that dangled dangerously on his head.

"Oh yeah, sure. Now they laugh." Looking around for traces of the director who had previously threatened certain death with her wand, Miroku found that she was nowhere in sight. Figures. "WHERE is YASHIRA?! This is not something I'm going to go through with! No way, I'll have a child with Naraku … ew… gasps…"

"Look this ain't my cup of tea either, but the show must go on. Would you like a baby boy or girl? I can produce both, you know." Naraku hadn't moved from where he stood, but he did offer a bright, evil looking smile that suggested, 'come get me, big boy.'

"THAT'S IT! I'm not playing anymore!!" Storming off stage, Miroku more than ran… he flew. "WHERE is she?! WHERE?! WHERE?! WHERE?!!"


	4. Play three

August 2009 to September 2009

Author's Note: Apparently, yours truly wrote a Play 3, but she hated it so much that she threw it away. Seriously, I have absolutely no idea where my notes to the third part went off to, however memory does recall that I disliked a lot so I probably flushed it down the toilet and it's making a left turn at Albuquerque.

Anyway, I then decided I might as well write up a new play for my last part to this loosely called three-parter.

Musashi Theatre Presents: IY CRACKED FAIRY TALES

**Play 3  
**By Illusionary Ghost (aka Yashira)

A small, innocent looking monkey wearing a thong walks onto the stage and waves eagerly at the audience. Upon instinct thousands of umbrellas bloom open as the querulous monkey begins to fling poo.

_Imagine if you will the sort of cries echoing back-_

"How can a little monkey have so much?!"

"It keeps coming and coming and it's not cute and pink with a drum!"

"Oh god, the inhumanity!"

_Behind the stage curtains though..._

"You have got to be kidding me!?" The question danced on Yashira's lips between outrage and clear stupefied disbelief. She stood there staring with wide blue eyes as if the Ragnarok had finally fallen. "I did not authorize this. Who the hell authorized this?!"

"Well someone rewrote the script," Miroku said quietly as he glanced over with a sly look. He should have still been royally pissed and annoyed at his director. In fact somewhere deep down he was still incredibly brewed to frustration and disgust, but it was held in check at that moment by one simple question. _Was she wearing any pants?_

It was a hard question to avoid when your hot boss is wearing what appears to be a white billowy pirate shirt so long that it covers up the beige shorts - really short shorts- underneath. All he could see right now was a pair of long silky legs that moved in soft seduction. With Sango still in intensive care, his instinct to grasp was growing.

Inuyasha's golden eyes flicked across the stage with one cold, calculated look, ignoring Miroku's glazed face when he circled back to face Yashira. "Okay, I think I've figured it out. One good Kaze no Kizu ought to do it."

"Inuyasha, don't you dare. You'll take out the audience." Kagome's tired face peeked around Yashira's shoulder with something akin to annoyance on her face. She looked tired and haggard as if she'd been up half the night practising new lines for a play that had been suddenly rewritten. Unlike Yashira, Kagome wore her usual school outfit, green sailor collar and short pleated skirt with white shirt and baggy socks. Different outfits, but with the same reaction growing in Miroku. Hot chicks were hot chicks.

"Well, ladies. It seems like the show's been cancel then," and instigating himself between Yashira and Kagome so that he could rest his hands on their hips, Miroku grinned his most flirtaceous smile. "Shall we go back to my plac-"

WHACK!! SLAP!! A pretzel, though not entirely accurate for Miroku's jumbled limbs, would be the closest image right now.

"Wow, double teamed and everything." Inuyasha had crossed his arms, making the haori of his red outfit crease in folds along his chest. With something between bemused smugness and pride, he added. "And I didn't even have to lift a finger." The warning hung there sharply though. Even though Inuyasha believed his sister and his girl friend could both handle themselves, he was not adverse to offering his own incentive that Miroku keep his hands off. Tetsusaiga's hilt shone, in the theatre's backstage light, menacing.

"He's not completely off though. Might as well call it quits and take out the smell in the process." Kikyou's aloof and cold voice echoed from several spaces behind them. She had raised ash-coloured fingers to her lips and wore her traditional red and white miko outfit. Taking care to avoid the new Miroku sculpture she came to rest a hairbreadth behind Inuyasha's shoulder. Gently she placed her fingers on his sleeve so that the guilty look Inuyasha wore betrayed him.

This was not lost on Kagome whose tired face registered both a spark of jealousy and hurt.

Almost as if on cue, Kouga came pounding behind them. Unlike the others, he had already changed into his costume. He wore a blue tunic belted at the waist with gold trim and knee length gold boots. "What is the damn hold up? Get the monk to clean it up if Inu-koru is too busy throwing his shit around." Struggling to catch the sparkling gold circlet he wore, he let out a dark curse. "Smells so bad here."

"I did what?!" Kikyou forgotten, Inuyasha shoved himself forward. "At least I'm not dressing up in a pansy outfit. Just look at you. Blue and Gold? Who wears that?!"

"Didn't your brother wear something similar."

"Shut up Pretzel boy. I'm starting to think the wimpy wolf has a point with you going to Kaza Ana the thing."

With a crinkling sound followed shortly by a snap, crackle pop, Miroku righted himself and ran numb fingers behind his stiff neck. "I'm not collecting that crap in my hand, that's more toxic than Naraku's miasma." Miroku growled the words as he straightened. "I vote we send you out with a toothbrush."

"Why don't we send Inuyasha out?" Sweet and innocent, Kagome wore the perfect serene face.

"Kagome?!" It wasn't just Inuyasha who looked at her with widening eyes.

"I mean, after all, he has enough time to take care of ..." and here she paused, eyes flickered long enough to Kikyou to emphasis her point, "other things, so I'm sure he has no problem with this."

"A woman after my own heart. We're going to dinner after this Kagome." Kouga would have wrapped his arm around her shoulder right then and there if Inuyasha hadn't pulled out his sword.

"No one is going anywhere with pansy-wolf boy here. I'm going to end this right now."

"Go ahead and MAKE me, Dog-turd!"

"Stop it, both of you! Kouga, back off and Inuyasha, for god's sake, put that damn sword down. I swear I feel like I'm babysitting and not getting paid for it." Yashira who had stood there forgotten, now stood between them a soccer referee, both hands gestured in firm warning. The threat of her anger hung like an ugly stain, its potency thick and heavy. "As always, I'm going to have to clean up this stupid mess you guys made." And while they wanted to complain, to remind their angry Director that they hadn't told the monkey to go fling poo at the audience, they did not. Inuyasha with his lips gripped in an ugly scowl and Kouga, hand clenched to the side, had noticed where her hand was.

The wand.

God-like powers seemed infused in this wand which allowed the fabric of time to distort and reweave itself. It was rumoured that it was called the _Author's Whiteout Tool_ and that on whim it would rewrite scenes or events. For some reason it had found its way into Yashira's care and had bound itself into her keeping. No amount of sneaking in to steal it had ended well. Inuyasha had the vague sense that he must have tried several times to take it, but he was always left with the déjà vu feeling that placed him outside theatre in the rain. (And why was it always raining in the alleyway when it was clear and sunny elsewhere, who the hell knew?!)

Sadly, the most Yashira had ever figured out was a few waving techniques employed in an off-handed fashion you'd find in a Santa Claus Parade. "Fix this stupid play so that we can end it all. I'm tired and I want to go home."

And then in that waving, the stage faded away, the audience went poof, and they disappeared.

_The play_:

"Do you feel like something just happened?" Inuyasha was looking nervously behind him, his fingers itching for the steel of sword he did not carry at his side. He was a bit disorientated and confused. The weapon. Where had he put the weapon?

"I don't know. It's probably just you." But Miroku had the sinking feeling he was angry at someone, but right now it was a difficult thing to address when he was staring down at himself with something akin to pure horror. "What the hell am I wearing?"

"It looks like some sort of blue dress, a red hood and cape."

Miroku who was quicker on the uptake found the blood curling inside him. "Oh no, she didn't. Oh hell no, she didn't." If he could have banged his face against the cold, cement wall, he wouldn't have stopped until he was knocked out cold. "Why am I the girl? Who wears lace anymore? And it's FRILLY! Why?"

"Hey, think of it this way. You don't have to go far to feel yourself up." Cold silence answered Inuyasha in the same way as Miroku's violet eyes balefully glared at him. "What, you can't say you never thought it?"

"I'm still a 100% man in here. It's NOT like I have the parts."

"Ah, so you checked already!"

"No!" Turning purple with exasperation as well as livid red with embarrassment when the audience roared to life around him, Miroku shook his hand out. Or he would have it there hadn't have been a bright orange basket filled with cookies, tarts and a large chocolate cake. "What the hell is this. Wow, this smells good actually."

"It looks like a basket... with food. Mmm."

"I know it's a basket. Come on. Why is it... why are you drooling?" Suddenly the basket was clutched protectively between the billowy fabric of Miroku's fake bosom. It wasn't as if he was particular happy about having this orange box stuck to his hand, but when a dog demon with sharp fangs gives you a look as if you're a pork chop, it would make anyone nervous. Especially if said dog demon had often promised in the past to kill you over minor, let's say frivous things about feeling up his girl friend. "If you want one so badly get your own."

"You have cookies and candy and... chocolate cake! Hand that basket over!"

"Oh hell no! Get your own. Don't you know chocolate is bad for dogs?"

"Do you think I care? Damn it, is it stuck to your arm with crazy glue or something?"

"Let go- let go- let go..daaaammiiit!" Being shook by the basket end in a forcibly up and down motion made Miroku dizzy and sick to his stomach. He felt like a soda bottle about to explode.

Flexing his claws as if he were sharpening a steak knife, Inuyasha said nonchalantly, "I guess it can't be helped then, humans can't re-grow limbs right?"

And suddenly things came into perspective for Miroku as he focused on what Inuyasha was wearing. Someone had gone to the trouble of taping odds and ends of different coloured fur patches to create a motley skin of varying shades of grey, brown and silver. It might even have looked authentic, as if he were some mutt born to seven different parents, if it wasn't for the fact that someone had left their scissors, assorted scraps of thread and paper littered all over the costume. But that wasn't what drew his eyes. What did was the huge wolf head - the kind of stuff animal head you'd find at an amusement park walking around saying hello to you. Big, bloated and balding, the main thing it had going for it was the huge yellow eyes - one of which was popping out on a spring. "I think you might want to look behind you a second."

Inuyasha scoffed. "What? Do you expect me to fall for the oldest trick in the book?"

"Right. Like you really think I can get away from your inhuman speed. Pul-eaze. I just never thought that you'd grow a tail... like your brother."

"What tail?" Inuyasha turned slowly, unsure if this was another of Miroku's cheap tricks. Instead what he saw made his gold eyes livid. Someone had taped what could only loosely be called a brown feather duster with a small name tag which read, "The wolf's tail" to his butt. "Who the **** put this here?! Miroku?"

But Miroku had fled - running as fast as his stocking legs and skippered feet would carry him.

_***the scene shifted with a wobbly blur which bent in on itself and then melted***_

"Woah. What the heck happened here?" Kouga was standing in a cozy, cottage kitchen surrounded by garlands of onions, garlic and other drying herbs over head. A clean sink with drying dishes in neat little rows sat behind him as well as a black little stove wherein gingerbread cookies cooked. The floor had been swept, the walls with their curios and boat pictures dusted and the vinyl clear protectors on the sofa, armchair and cushions set out in force. Everything was sweetly looking, clean and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Much quicker on the uptake than Inuyasha and Miroku, Kouga felt for the shawl and frilly dress he had on. His face registered what the audience already knew. He was wearing a grandmother's dress with matching bonnet to match.

He reached up to jerk the hat off, but another one sat there in its place. "What in tarnation?" You could probably picture a rapid spin of hands pulling and the quickly filling the floor full of white "Little House on the Prairie" bonnets, but that's not quite what happened. As soon as the bonnets left his hand and touched the floor they disappeared. The place quite liked to be kept clean. "Why am I the old woman? I even have the make-up too...ew. Inu-koru better not see me like thi-"

Through the opening door spewing in sunshine, came Inuyasha on queue. While he appeared disorientated about his surroundings, there was one thing he wasn't confused about. Kouga in drag. He kind of figured Kouga was into the whole dress scene, but it was something you had to see to believe. _Like I had to see it, I already knew! _"Well then. This should be easy."

"Inu-koru? What the hell are you wearing?"

"Apparently, I'm the Big Bad Wolf." Dead panned silence.

Kouga wore the only look that he could get away with in a grandmother's outfit. Smug-disbelief in a "you can't pull the wool over my eyes". "HA HA HA. You wish and in your dreams, young man." He paused, touched his mouth with his hand as if he couldn't quite believe it. "Well gosh-darn it young fellow-" One could read the W-T-F crossing Kouga's eyes as he realized he'd not only been censored, but edited. "What just happened? I feel like I'm in some bagerized Viz translation."

"I think you were aiming at Bastardized." It wasn't that Inuyasha was being helpful, it was because he could see the anger building up in Kouga and it made him happy to add to it.

"Well you gosh-darn tooting young man. I'll just have to give you an extra special treat later." Kouga's feral looking scowl gave each overly sweet- edited word an unnatural feel. Inuyasha didn't know if it was worth pushing his luck to enjoy Kouga's intense discomfort or to back away slowly and let the demon explode in on himself. Given the amount of rage building up within Kouga's "rewritten" personality, it would be only too soon.

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooooooooooooooooofffff!

"Well, well. Just a pile of clothes on the floor are we now. Keh. Miroku's running around with a big fat batch of chocolate cake, and I'm sweating in this hellhole scrap of fur. Now that you're out of the picture, he'll come in here shortly and then I'll take him out. Cookies, candy and chocolate cake for me!!!"

_***The screen melts in mid shift, wobbles to the side and then falls off..****_

"I'm getting kind of dizzy with all these dissolves." Inuyasha, who was laying under the covers and wearing the white bonnet OVER his fat, balding wolf's head wondered for the 5th time, just why he didn't blow the entire set to oblivion. Oh right, no sword. Oddly though, as he tried to focus on the director as well as that waving thing she had... he found his thoughts clouded and muddy. It couldn't be that important, could it?

"Grandma, I've come to bring you some food from home." Good. Miroku was on time and not a sweating moment too soon.

"Come in Miroku-dear." Grudgingly, he forced himself to add the _dear_ in a grandmotherly and wizenly kind of way. No reason to tip the scale and let him know that Kouga wasn't here anymore. _Rest in Hell, jerk face.  
_  
_Somewhere out on a bright, sunlit beach and surrounded by his adoring public who cheer from behind an iron ringed fence, Kouga smiles at his screaming fans while his bodyguards keep any overly keen admirers away._

Miroku came into the room, but if Inuyasha had been expecting him to be in his red hood and apron and skippered feet, he was in for a shock. Dressed in what could only be described as Rambo- Miroku was bare-chest, streaked in black grease, wearing khaki shorts and loaded to the arms in military bullets, grenades, submachine guns and knives. "**I am the Law**!"

Gripping the bed sheets in a grandmotherly palsmy way, Inuyasha looked immediately at the audience and then to the empty backstage. Where in the world was Kagome, Kikyou and Yashira? "Oi, that's NOT in the story. Can we talk about this?"

Serious faced and burning with four wheels of fury, Miroku hefted the bazooka into firing range. "No, but after that stint at my basket and that comment about what a pretzel was good for, I did some creative rewriting. You are NOT getting my chocolate cake or my candies or my cookies! Die mother f-"

The great thing about being a youkai is the demon quick reflexes that allows, let's say, someone to leap out of bed and, hit the ceiling in one Abbott and Costello motion without stopping. Then to scramble onto the roof in an effort to avoid the nuclear missile aimed for the bed and ride off that explosion on some jagged part of the shingle roof- now projectiles as if they were surfboards. Meh, you could say that last bit was just a bonus.

"What the hell!?! Don't you care about the play?!" But his scream was lost as the house exploded in a shower of bricks and mortar. Echoing behind it all was an answering hiss and swoosh of the heat seeking missile which followed in close pursuit of Inuyasha's "the wolf's tail" accessory . "Gulp!"

_**the scene shifts, coughs and sputters and then flares to life under the burning explosion**_

"I'm a Lumberjack and I do care... or was it I don't care?" Naraku was thinking about this carefully, his pale finger pressed thoughtfully against his painted lips. "Well, it doesn't matter, because I'm not really cutting these trees." Glancing over at the cloned youkai he had formed to do the work for him, Naraku could only grin and smile. What better way to get work done than to shift the buck onto someone else's unwilling shoulders. Still, they had been grumbling earlier and though he had to call in some threats to shut them up, the low buzz had started up again. He was going to have to deal it with, but first-

"I don't even know why I'm here. I left earlier." Sesshoumaru was sitting up in the branches of one of the nearby - untouched - trees wearing what could possibly be described as part of the lederhosen from the costume of that first fatal play. A broken axe laid across his lap. Aside from the break in the handle, it was unused and shining in the afternoon sun.

"Maybe you've finally decided to give in to my sleek charm and sophistication." He purred, though the words held a lot less of a satisfaction because of the low buzz of complaints were gradually rising. "HEY! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Missing, apparently." Sesshoumaru did not sound surprised as he fingered the other half the axe. The handle, laying at Naraku's feet, gleamed accusingly at the near miss. "It works better when you don't get out of the way, you know."

"Do you want me to cut down this tree?! I can - I mean - my minions can do that." If they weren't complaining...though oddly enough he was starting to realize that there was something strange to the buzzing. It sounded more like a jet plane.

"Go ahead and try. I still have the head part of the axe and you're not too far down for me to miss a second time."

"You think I, Naraku am afraid of your idle threats!" The jet-plane sound grew so loud that he was forced to look up at the sky with something akin to wide-eyed disbelief. "Odd. It's too early for fireworks."  
Listening closely, he was able to hear the repeated buzz of:

"_Oh shi-shi-shi-shit!! Hot- hot hot hot....UAGGGH!"_

"What the heck is this?"

"It's the Big Bad Wolf, coming in for a landing!!!!"

"Landing?! Drop and cover! He's going to -"

_***The explosion of red light crackled through the scene, burning so hot that it destroyed the following scene as well.***_

A trickle of morning light glances down on the hospital wing for burnt patients as if for brief exposure before the darkening clouds stretch out to obscure it. Further down and through the open window comes moans and groans of pain.

"I am NEVER doing another play ever. I'm burnt in places I didn't think I had any feeling in."

"Why don't you shut up. IF you hadn't instructed that monkey to attack the audience, she wouldn't have used that wand. Just shut up already. Considering I've lost all my hair, not to mention my boa is gone-"

"Boa or your tail?"

"Be silent!"

"Hey, it's not so bad, I've been here since Play 1 and I've golly well had such a great time. I'm not even upset that Miroku's hitting on everyone. Everything is just dandydori - yup it really is." The new voice was so chipper and happy sounding that the previous speakers grew silent.

"Dandydori?! Are you on drugs?"


	5. Epilogue

September 8, 2009

Epilogue

By Illusionary Ghost (aka Yashira)

"So how many escaped the inferno? Please miss, take it easy and take it slow."

"I'm not exactly sure. I have no idea where Kagome and Kikyou are." Yashira was smiling innocently enough, or as much as you could look innocent when you're handcuffed and have the brunt of your face pressed against the hot metal of a police cruiser. "It all happened so fast."

"You realize we're going to have to book you. Unauthorized use of firearms, slave labour and abuse of an endangered species-" The handsome police officer was tapping his black book thoughtfully. As if he meant to write something on the blank sheet, but couldn't quite focus as his eyes drew along the curve of her bare leg.

Deadly serious, Yashira's smile faltered. "What endangered species?"

"The monkey."

"Oh, you mean the little beast that took out the entire audience... figures. He terrorizes the people and I get the short end of the shit- I mean stick." She let out a sigh and wished for the third time that she could at least straightened up and have a better look at the officer. For some reason the man sounded familiar.

"Two brothers are hospitalized, miss. You realized your actions put both of them in the hospital, this is going to get marked down as domestic family violence."

She really wanted to laugh at that. Of the three of them, she was the least violent. At least she hadn't tried to stab her sibling in the chest ... not like Sesshoumaru. And as for Inuyasha, he carried a deadly weapon, and yet oddly enough there was no mention of that. She wouldn't have been surprised if the officer was going to pull the "it was not found at the scene and without proof, yadayada."

There was the sharp crackle of walkie-talkie and the officer quickly spoke into it.

And what had happened to that damn wand. One moment it was there at her side, a comfortable and reassuring tool, and the next minute it had disappeared. It hadn't even granted her wish of wanting to be home. And now there was no wishing herself out of this predicament either. Damn, damn and dammmmn.

"Okay miss. There's been some new developments, I've been told to let you go with a warning." He reached gently for her back and eased her up. Oddly enough, his fingers left a strange feeling along her skin – was she flushing. _I know these hands...should have known them once._

"A warning? After being accused of all that?" Was this her lucky day or was she about to get a surprise kidney punch? "I guess I'm okay with that. Can you get these cuffs... off." Blue eyes blinked in surprise as she looked up into emerald green eyes that sparkled in the afternoon glow. She didn't really see much of the black and white cop outfit, and really how could she when she was gaping at him. "Yaj? What are you-"

And he was grinning at her, his gaze traveling approvingly over her entire form as if he saw the clothing as an afterthought. (And knowing him, she was pretty sure, he was.) "I'm here to take you home."

Author's Note:

Thank you for taking the time to read these stories.


End file.
